The Teacher

by Gray, Meg

  He didn’t know how he was going to do it yet, but he would. Finally, he felt like he was doing right by his son and he wasn’t about to have it all fall apart now.

  That night as Marcus reheated two chicken potpies Rosa had left in the refrigerator for them, Brayden pulled a white paper sack out of his backpack. The bag was folded at the top, a red ribbon ran through two punched holes, and was tied off in a bow.

  “What’s in the bag, buddy?” Marcus asked him.

  Brayden shrugged and carried it into the kitchen where he set it on the counter.

  “It looks like a present,” Marcus said. “Is it a present?”

  Brayden nodded.

  “So, who is it for?” Marcus asked, grinning.

  “It’s for Mother’s Day,” Brayden said.

  “Oh,” Marcus said, dropping his smile and freezing in place. He felt himself break into a cold sweat, his mind raced thinking about how he could change the subject before Brayden asked him questions he didn’t want to answer.

  “Ms. Hewitt said we don’t have to give it to a mother, if we don’t have one,” Brayden continued, apparently not noticing his father’s momentary lapse into paralysis.

  “So, who would you like to give your present to?” Marcus asked, clearing his throat from the choke of emotions he had been prepared to fight.

  “I want to give it to Ms. Hewitt.”

  “Really?” Marcus asked in surprise.

  “Yeah,” Brayden said, shooting him a wide-eyed look. “She said we could give it to anyone we wanted that was special to us.”

  Marcus held his hands up showing his son he was surrendering to whatever fight he imagined was about to ensue. “If that’s what you want Bray, then that’s fine with me. Can I at least take a peek first?”

  “Sure,” Brayden said, shrugging and Marcus pulled at the end of the thin red ribbon. He pulled out a painted glass jar and spun it in his hand. Three red flowers were painted around the base of the jar with five blue dots above each one. Vertical purple lines separated the flowers. Marcus took a closer look. The lines were impeccably straight and the paint from the red flower petals barely overlapped the yellow interior circle.

  “Did you do this all by yourself?” Marcus asked, thinking that he himself wouldn’t be able to achieve such smooth and straight strokes.

  Brayden nodded.

  “Really?” Marcus asked. “Nobody helped you?”

  “Well, Ms. Hewitt mixed the paints for us and she helped me wash off the paint when I messed up, so I could try again.”

  “Wow, Bray, this is really good. I like it a lot.”

  His son smiled at him. “I didn’t think you would like the flowers. They’re red

  roses.”

  “Roses, huh?” Marcus said, thinking they looked more like daisies.

  “Yeah, they’re Ms. Hewitt’s favorite flower.”

  “Oh, I see,” Marcus said. “I’m sure she’ll love them.”

  “And the blue dots are rain, because she loves the rain and purple is her favorite color.”

  “It’s great,” Marcus told him, wrapping it back in its tissue paper and retying the bow.

  The loops were larger than before and drooped instead of holding their form in a petite bow. “You sure know a lot about your teacher,” Marcus said, pulling two forks from a drawer. He handed them to Brayden who placed them on the placemats at the breakfast bar.

  “She tells us everything,” Brayden said, climbing into his chair where he waited for his dinner.

  “Everything, huh?” Marcus asked as he poured two glasses of milk and set them on the placemats.

  “Yup,” Brayden said, picking up his glass with two hands and gulping half of it down in three big swallows. Marcus leaned back on the black granite counter while the microwave counted down fifty-seven more seconds and watched his son wipe the traces of a milk moustache away with the back of his hand.

  “So, what does she tell you?” Marcus asked with a confident nod, his interest slightly piqued as to what his son knew about this woman that he did not.

  “Her favorite fruit is peaches, her favorite vegetable is broccoli,” Brayden made a face when he said this. “She likes dogs and horses and grew up on a farm.”

  “Yes, I believe you mentioned that one before,” Marcus said and turned as the microwave beeped. “Anything else?” He felt a little guilty about probing his son for information, but he was interested and they were talking. It seemed like Ms. Hewitt was the only topic they could carry on a conversation about.

  “She’s twenty-seven and doesn’t have any kids, but says she will someday. When is Someday, Dad?”

  Marcus set the potpies down and smiled, “Well, it’s not today and it’s not tomorrow, but it’s another day that’s coming.”

  Brayden nodded and broke the crust of his pie shell with his fork letting the steam from within rise up.

  “I’m glad you like her,” Marcus said, ruffling his son’s hair.

  “Can she be my teacher next year?” Brayden asked.

  “I, uh, I don’t know, Bray,” Marcus replied. Brayden’s eyes were so bright and full of hope he didn’t want to extinguish it. He knew it was unlikely Emma would be Brayden’s teacher again, even if he stayed at Fitzpatrick.

  “I hope she is,” Brayden said, swinging his feet under his chair and pushing a forkful of the pie into his mouth.

  Marcus took his first bite too and then was struck by the answer he’d been looking for. Emma. She was his solution. He couldn’t guarantee Brayden she’d be his teacher next year, but maybe she could be for the summer. In Seattle. Marcus couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have with his son.

  The wheels in his brain began to turn as he fit all the details of the arrangement together and prepared a solid argument to persuade her into taking the job. She had to. He needed her.

  * * *

  Spring was in the air. The birds sang. Daffodils and tulips bloomed. Heavy winter coats were traded in for light jackets with hoods to protect against the rain, but there hadn’t been a drop for five days straight. The promise of summer seemed to be right around the corner and spring fever was running rampant through Fitzpatrick Elementary.

  The children’s energy was brighter and fuller. Emma tried to schedule extended recesses and special activities outside when she could. It was hard to keep her flock of fidgeting bodies focused on finishing their academic work in the classroom.

  The evenings were getting warmer and staying light longer. The fresh blanket of spring beckoned her outside to sit and read or picnic in the park. It made her long for someone to share it with. She and Seth took a lovely evening stroll last night, but when they returned to the apartment, he’d rushed off to call Kelly, reminding Emma that her time with him was borrowed from the one he loved.

  Seth was ecstatic about his newest assignment—another project in the LA area. Emma, on the other hand, was disappointed. With Seth gone and school letting out soon, she’d have more time on her hands than she’d know what to do with. The job hunt wasn’t going well, not that she’d had much time to look, but what she inquired about so far didn’t look promising. Most of the coffee shops in her neighborhood were extending their college students’ hours over the summer. Audrey offered her some inconsistent babysitting hours, but Emma declined knowing her sister was just being charitable. The school year wasn’t over yet, she still had time to figure something out.

  Eleven days. That’s what the countdown in the staff room read.

  Emma carried a crate full of student portfolios back to her classroom, ready to call it a day.

  The bright sunshine streamed through the windows at the end of the hallway. She turned into her dark room, temporarily blinded from the lighting change. She was startled by a familiar, yet disembodied voice.

  “Hi Emma.”

  She set the crate on her kidney-bean shaped table and turned in the direction of the voice.

  “Hi, there,” she responded, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light. Marcu
s stood near her desk, an envelope in his hand.

  “Hi,” he said again, smiling. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Of course,” Emma replied, sitting on the edge of her table and folding her arms in front of her. She tilted her head and watched him. He wasn’t wearing a suit jacket and his tie was loose around his neck. He usually looked at her directly and meaningfully, but today, there was something reserved about him.

  “Are you,” he started then stopped. “Do you have plans for the summer?”

  She wasn’t quite sure what he was asking or why he was asking, so she answered vaguely, “Uh, not really.”

  He nodded and cleared his throat. This seemed to restore some of his composure. “What I mean to ask is—are you looking for work this summer?”

  Emma dropped her arms. “As a matter of fact I am,” she said. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to, but my paychecks didn’t go as far as I’d hoped and now I need to build up my savings if I’m ever going to buy…” she stopped herself, looking away from him. Why was she complaining about her financial situation to him, he probably couldn’t care less?

  He shifted on his feet. “Well, I was hoping that, um,” he stammered ever so slightly. “You see I’m looking for someone to work with Brayden this summer.”

  “Oh,” said Emma.

  “And he will need someone to take him to his therapy appointments.” He was watching her and she realized he was asking not telling her this.

  “Oh,” she said again, with greater understanding. “You’re looking for a nanny for Brayden.”

  “Well, sort of,” Marcus said. “Would you be interested in working with Brayden? I will pay you, of course.”

  “You want me to be Brayden’s nanny for the summer?” she clarified, placing a hand on her own chest.

  “Um, yes, I guess it would be a nanny, but more like a tutor. You’re just so good with him,” Marcus said as Emma started to consider the possibility. It sounded doable. She and Brayden were getting along well and it would be easy enough to spend a few hours each day with him. It might be good money. She was about to say yes when he dropped a few more details.

  “It would be for ten weeks,” he added and she nodded, that sounded good. “We leave for Seattle, the same day school lets out and we’ll be back by the middle of August.” Marcus stopped as soon as Emma started shaking her head.

  “Seattle?” she repeated, rethinking this whole proposition.

  “Yes,” he said, straightening up and changing his tone, all of his poise and command returned. “I will be working out of our main office in Seattle and I need someone I can trust and rely on to look after Brayden. It’s all lined out right here.” He crossed the floor closing the space between them and handed her an envelope. “I have drawn up a complete contract for you. It will explain all my expectations and your compensation.”

  “Oh,” Emma said taken aback by his confidence that she would take the job and brought a contract for her to sign here and now. But there were a lot of things for her to consider, like the expense to get to Seattle and finding a place to live for the summer. “I’ll, um, I’ll think about it,” she said quietly.

  Marcus nodded at her curtly and then spun on his heel. He took two steps toward the door before walking back to her desk, where he’d been standing when she first walked in. “I almost forgot,” he said, picking something up. “Brayden said this was for you.” He reached out and handed her the same bag she’d sent home with Brayden on Friday.

  “But this is…” she began to say, holding the bag in her hands.

  “He said he wanted to give it to you, because you are special to him.” Marcus turned and was out the door before she could respond. She felt her heart melt thinking how thoughtful it was of Brayden to want to give her his gift, but then it hardened as she thought about how Marcus may have used it as a tactic to get her to take the job he was offering her—in Seattle. She was angry that he would use her emotions against her like that.

  Emma shoved the envelope and the gift into her bag before turning off the classroom lights and locking the door.

  Her mind raced through her conversation with Marcus as she pushed through the front doors of the school.

  “Ms. Hewitt, Ms. Hewitt,” Brayden called, running back up the sidewalk to her. His backpack bounced with every step. Marcus turned but didn’t approach her.

  “Hi Brayden,” she said with a smile.

  “Dad said he gave you my present. Did you like it?” Emma looked at Marcus, but he was looking down at the cracked sidewalk. She looked back to Brayden and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “He did give it to me and I love it.” She squatted next to him and lowered her voice. “Are you sure you want to give it to me? I thought we talked about you giving it to your dad.”

  “No, I made it for you, because you like red flowers. Dad doesn’t like red flowers.”

  Emma smiled, “Thank you so much for the present Brayden.”

  He smiled at her before skipping off toward his dad again. Emma followed them down the sidewalk and turned in the direction of her apartment while they crossed the street and climbed into Marcus’s Mercedes.

  * * *

  After Emma’s dinner of a grilled turkey Panini and fresh fruit, she pulled the white envelope from her bag. Brayden seemed genuine about wanting to give the Mother’s Day gift to her, so she started to rethink Marcus’s proposal. She unfolded the tucked flap and pulled the contract from within.

  It all looked so legal, but then Marcus was an attorney and this probably came second nature to him. Her name was typed at the top. The dates of “desired” employment were listed as well as a wage offering. Emma’s eyes popped as she looked at the number, wondering if there was a typo, maybe one too many zeros. This was more money than she made in two months of teaching.

  A job description was listed and everything matched exactly as Marcus had described it. Stipulations were included about how some additional evening and weekend time may be needed, but otherwise evenings and weekends were her free time. The section on lodging explained that the house was large enough for Emma to have her own private suite and no rent would be charged. Meals would be provided as well as all expenses incurred for traveling.

  Emma blinked at the pages. She scanned them again, wondering if she had missed something. This offer seemed too good to be true. Could she really make this much money by going to Seattle and spending time with Brayden? There had to be some loophole, but she couldn’t find it. She thought about calling Audrey, just to go over it with someone else, but every time she talked to her sister in the last month, she’d been distracted and quick to get off the phone. Emma looked at the clock and decided it was too late to call now anyway, Audrey and Finn would be getting the girls ready for bed.

  She would make this decision for herself.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Marcus, do you have a minute?” Dennis called from down the hall as Marcus stepped out of the conference room.

  “What is it?” Marcus asked meeting the associate halfway.

  “I need a signature on these,” Dennis explained, opening a file folder.

  Marcus took the pages from his hands and started toward his office. Dennis trailed slightly behind. Marcus skimmed the documents as he walked, but stopped when he approached the reception area. There were voices, Gretta’s and someone else’s that sounded familiar. He looked at Dennis who just looked back at him waiting for his signature—unaware of the voices. Marcus strained to listen.

  “Can I just leave this for Mr. Lewis?” It was Emma. Why was she here? And what was she leaving for him? He took the final steps down the hall and rounded the corner into the reception area, brushing his shoulder past the potted palm. The leaves rustled and both women looked up in mid exchange of the white envelope. His eyes were drawn right to it, recognizing it as the one he’d left with her only a few days ago.

  “Ms. Hewitt,” he said.

  “Hi,” she said, pulling the envelope back into her posses
sion. “I was just returning this.” She lifted it slightly.

  “Is it vetoed or can we discuss it further?” He spoke vaguely, afraid the answer was she would not be joining him in Seattle and he didn’t want to face that rejection in front of his colleagues. He had found a therapist for Brayden and already accepted his father’s proposal. It had been premature without having Emma in place, but he’d been counting on it. Counting on having her there with him.

  “I would like to discuss it with you, but Gretta says you are very busy this afternoon. I don’t want to keep you from your work. Another time would be fine.”

  “Now would be fine,” he reassured her and saw her gaze fall to the right of him. He glanced and saw Dennis quietly hovering behind him like a ghost. “I’m almost finished here and then we can talk. I’ll meet you in my office. Gretta would you please show Ms. Hewitt the way.”

  “I remember the way,” Emma said, waving Gretta off.

  Gretta looked from Emma to Marcus, the corners of her mouth turned down.

  Marcus nodded to Emma who proceeded down the hall. As he turned to follow her Gretta called out, “Mr. Lewis don’t forget you have a conference call in ten minutes.”

  “I remember,” he said over his shoulder and returned his attention to the documents. He stopped in front of Dennis’s office door where he flipped through the rest of the file. Three doors down he watched Emma enter his office. He scrawled his signature on the appropriate lines and handed the file back to Dennis.

  Inside his office, he found Emma in one of the leather chairs, one leg crossed over the other with her bag propped up against the chair. It wasn’t her usual bag, the one he’d scooped off the sidewalk that drizzly fall night. It was bigger, the soft brown leather exterior and detailed stitching looked soft and new.

  He slipped into his leather desk chair and she pushed the envelope across the desktop to him. Both of them stared at it, neither one ready to start the conversation.

  “I’m interested in taking the job,” Emma finally said with a lift of her chin. “But I need to make a couple of changes to the contract.”